Clash (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fall had quickly turned to bitter cold. Weather in the Midwest was very unpredictable, and it appeared winter was approaching fast.

I hadn’t seen or heard from Maggie since Dylan told her to walk away.

He kept me busy over the last few weeks with apartment hunting, still insisting I move in with him. It did make sense, considering most nights I spent curled up in the safety of his bed. So when he found the perfect one-bedroom apartment near campus, it was hard to resist. It was cozy with spacious rooms, and the rent was reasonable.

As Dylan wrapped up his senior year of college and got a job with a friend of his late father, he made decent money in home construction. It seemed fitting since he wanted to build and design homes for families. We could afford living on his income alone, but I insisted on getting my own job to help out. It was hard to leave Karen; she had been the mother I longed for, but it was time to be independent.

On most nights Dylan would work late, and tonight was no different. It was a little after seven when my phone lit up with an incoming call.

Dylan’s name flashed across the screen, and I got excited that he might be on his way home. “Hello,” I said with a bright smile. God, I felt like a school girl.

“Hey, baby,” he replied. “The guys called and wanted me to stop by the house. Bryson wanted to talk to me about something, and I figure I can pick up the last couple of boxes.”

I felt a pang of disappointment but hid it from him. “Yeah, go. I was just lying down reading a book anyway,” I said as I looked over at the stove where our dinner was keeping warm. The silverware I held in my hand made a soft clinking noise when I placed them down on the plates.

“Do you want me to bring dinner home?” he asked.

“No, I actually made spaghetti earlier. It’s in the fridge to warm up later if you’re hungry. Or you can grab something. It’s up to you.” I sat down at the table and tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. The last thing I wanted was to keep Dylan from his friends.

“I won’t be long,” he assured me.

“Okay,” I replied.

“I love you.”

I could sense his happiness and I couldn’t help but smile in return. “I love you too.”

Eating alone was something I had done for years. It was the only way I could get a peaceful meal when I lived with John. It meant eating dinner early most nights, but the last thing I wanted was to share a meal with him. Now, eating alone was miserable.

After I cleaned up dinner and put everything away, I took a quick shower before climbing into bed.

I must have dozed off because the doorbell woke me near midnight. I hurried from the bed and looked through the peephole in the door. There stood Dylan, held up by Bryson and Seth. A girl with long blonde hair stood just a few feet behind; I assumed she was Bryson’s friend.

I opened the door wide enough for the guys to lead Dylan in, and the girl smiled politely. “Dylan got a little drunk tonight,” she offered with a shrug.

“Yeah, it appears so,” I replied, looking back over my shoulder as they placed him on the couch. Seth looked up at me sympathetically, and I wondered what could have triggered this behavior. Dylan wasn’t normally a heavy drinker.

Bryson handed me Dylan’s truck keys as he walked past me. “I drove his truck home so he didn’t have to figure out how to get it later.”

“Thanks,” I offered with a smile. “And thanks for making sure he made it home safely.”

“No problem,” he added before walking out and right past the blonde. She was obviously just a hook up of his. Poor girl. She gave a light wave as she turned to follow behind him.

“I came home from Casey’s and found him shit-faced. Had I been there, he wouldn’t have gotten that drunk.” Seth assured me.

“Do you know what triggered it?” I asked.

“Todd,” Seth replied. There was no need for further explanation. Todd got under Dylan’s skin and he knew it. He took every opportunity he could to make the fact he and I were once close to be more than it truly was.

“If you need me, call,” Seth said as he gave me a hug. “I’m only a few minutes away.”

I nodded my head and closed the door behind him.

Turning back to face Dylan, I shook my head. This was not the way I hoped tonight would work out. I knelt before him and began taking off his shoes when he began to stir.

“Hi,” he said with a lazy grin. “Why don’t you remove these next?” he added, tugging on the buckle of his jeans. “Then you can climb up on my lap and go for a ride.”

I snickered because he was sort of a cute drunk. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t know what was happening if I did, or be able to stay awake, for that matter.”

“Oh, I can stay awake. There is no way being inside you wouldn’t keep me alert.” That grin faded into a pained expression just before he leaped off the couch and staggered toward the bathroom, bouncing off the wall and the doorframe on the way.

Listening to Dylan puke over and over was a complete switch from his teasing only moments ago. When he slowed down, I got a wash cloth from the closet and wet it, placing it over the back of his neck.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Reaching up, he flushed the toilet and tried to climb up from the floor. “Let me help you,” I insisted, and he didn’t argue. As I lead him toward the bedroom, he lifted his shirt over his head and I helped him when it got stuck on his arm. I tried not to laugh, but it was so hard to hold back.

John was an angry drunk, so Dylan was a whole new experience.

As he tried to remove his pants, the same thing happened when they pooled at his feet. “Sit down before you fall.” I directed him back toward the bed and knelt down once more to help him finish getting undressed.

“I feel like an ass,” he groaned as he lay all the way back on the bed, his feet still hanging off the end.

“I imagine so.” I held back my smile. “You’re gonna feel even worse in the morning.”

Another groan escaped him. This time I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Go ahead and laugh it up, Twig,” he said, using my old nickname he gave years ago. If I didn’t know he was feeling like hell, I would have slugged him.

I watched as his face began to relax and his body grew limp. Once again he was out, still only partially on the bed.

I began to gather his clothes off the floor. When lifting his jeans, his cell phone slipped from his back pocket and fell to the floor.

An idea of taking a photo of him and sending it to Casey for torture at a later time made me giggle. I bent down and picked up his phone, dropping the clothes in a pile next to me.

Clicking on the camera button, the smile that I wore only seconds ago faded as I noticed the most recent picture.

The same blonde girl who was here earlier had her arms wrapped around Dylan, smiling up at him.

I clicked on the gallery and scrolled through one after another. They went from innocent to daring with each picture. The few where she was kissing him made me feel sick.

I placed his phone on the bed, the photo of him kissing that girl still on his screen. My stomach was in knots as I gathered his things and tossed them in the hamper. I was moving around the apartment in a daze, hurt and slightly confused. What happened that triggered him to cheat? Were things between us bad? Was he not happy with me?

I felt the room was closing in on me as I sat on the couch and curled into myself. I rarely cried, but in that moment I couldn’t control the tears from falling. I felt like I just lost my best friend, and everything was crumbling around me.

***

Waking up hours later just as the sun was beginning to rise, I looked around, remembering where I was and why. The familiar feeling of disappointment filled me once more.

I was scheduled to be at the café at eight, but I felt the desire to get out of the apartment now. I needed some distance, some space to think. I felt claustrophobic.

The last thing I wanted to do was face Dylan before I had a chance to build the strength I would need to get through this.

I tossed my hair back into a ponytail and quickly dressed before I put on my walking shoes and grabbed my purse.

The café was only a fifteen minute walk. Normally Dylan would drive me, but today the cold air felt nice.

I was just rounding onto Maple when a car turned out of an alleyway and almost slowed to a stop. An eerie feeling hit me, making me walk faster.

I was practically running when I came to the corner and Murray’s, the café where I had been working for over a month. I was out of breath when I placed my hand on the handle. Looking back over my shoulder as I yanked open the door, I saw the same car ease by. I got a glimpse of a man wearing a baseball hat that hid most of his features. Chills ran down my back and arms as the car sped off, squealing its tires in the process.

Still looking behind me as I rushed inside, I ran into Helen, a long time waitress at the café, and made her drop a tray of cups and plates she was carrying. The loud crash of the ceramic breaking as it hit the tile floor echoed through the café.

“Oh my god,” I said as I reached out, touching Helen’s arm. “I am so sorry.”

The entire occupancy of the small café had turned toward us and watched the whole thing unfold.

I stepped forward in attempt to gather the items from the floor and slipped in the puddle of coffee at my feet. I came down hard on my left side; in the process my wrist smacked the display case, just to the side of the door, which held today’s specials.

Pain shot through me and I cried out as tears pooled in my eyes.

William, the owner, rushed out from the kitchen and knelt at my side. “Payton, are you okay?” He seemed genuinely concerned, considering I just created a damn disaster in the middle of the doorway. I felt like a complete idiot.

“I’m fine,” I assured him as I pushed against the floor, attempting to get up. “Ahh,” I cried out, lifting my left wrist up and holding it tightly against my chest. It throbbed in pain and I bit down on my lip to hold back a few curse words floating around in my mind.

“You don’t look okay, sweetheart. Let me help you up.” I didn’t argue because there was no way I was going to be able to do it on my own. Plus, everyone staring at me made me extremely nervous.

“I’m so sorry,” I offered to Helen once more as William led me toward the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, honey, we got this.” A few other waitresses came over and began helping her clean up the mess I caused. I felt horrible. The day started out shitty and went to one of the worst I had in a long time.

“Sweetheart, I think you need to go get your wrist checked out.” William said as he guided me to the back and into the chair just opposite his desk.

I looked down at my wrist and the idea I had that it was fine faded fast. My wrist was already beginning to swell and change to a shade of bluish purple.

“Did you drive? Or did someone drop you off?” he asked as he handed me the icepack one of the girls had just brought back to us.

“I walked,” I said as I placed a cold pack on my arm, wincing on contact. “It’s okay, really. I’ll be fine.”

“Come on, let’s go.” He motioned toward the door and I just looked up at him in confusion. “I’m taking you in to have that looked at.”

“You don’t have to. I can…” Before I could finish my sentence, William was out the door, leaving me staring after his back.

“What a fucking day,” I whispered as I stood up and followed behind my boss like a scorned teenager.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dylan

My head was pounding when I attempted to open my eyes. The sun shining through the bedroom window was so fucking bright I had to close my eyes again. Groaning as I rolled to the side, I felt for Payton.

Feeling the empty bed at my side, I forced an eye open and focused on the place where she should have been. The covers were still pulled up tightly and her pillow sham was still in place, indicating she obviously had not slept by my side.

Forcing myself to move I searched for my phone, finding it on the floor at the end of the bed.

I froze when the screen came to life and displayed across my phone was a picture of a girl I recognized. My stomach instantly dropped and my chest tightened. Panic shot through me as I thought about what Payton must have thought seeing this picture. But I couldn’t fucking remember myself what had happened.

Just as I was about to call her, my phone began to vibrate in my hand, Payton’s name flashing across the screen. “Hello,” I said in a rush. “Payton?”

“Dylan,” a man’s voice came through the other end of the line. “This is William, Payton’s boss. She has you as an emergency contact in her phone.”

“Emergency? What happened? What’s going on?” I was barely moving a moment ago, but the idea of Payton being hurt gave me the motivation I needed to get my ass going.

“She fell at work and hurt her wrist. I’m with her at the emergency room, and I thought someone should know where she is,” he explained.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there,” I assured him before hanging up. Rushing around the apartment to get ready I noticed evidence she slept on the couch. The idea of what she must be thinking made me feel sick.

I had to get to her and explain. What I would explain I had no fucking clue because I didn’t remember much after the round of shots I played with the guys.

Shannon was there when I arrived, but I didn’t acknowledge her; I had no reason to. I had no idea how the hell pictures of her kissing me were on my phone.

On the way to the hospital I called Bryson to get an idea of what the hell happened, but the phone went straight to voicemail. Taking a chance, I called a few of the other guys but came up with the same result. On a Saturday morning after a Friday night party that was not uncommon.

Pulling up at the emergency room entrance, I found the first available space to park.

I was nervous, about both Payton being in pain and because I had no idea what she would say about last night. The idea of her being upset in any way made me uneasy; knowing that because of me she may be hurting fucking gutted me.

I approached the nurses’ station and a younger girl looked up from a file in her hands and greeted me. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, my girlfriend was brought in a little while ago by her boss,” I said, trying to control my need to get to her as soon as possible.

“Name?” she asked as she leaned over the computer in front of her. I gave her Payton’s full name as she typed on the computer. “She is in room eight, just down the hall and to the left.”

“Thank you,” I said as I rounded the desk and walked in the direction the nurse pointed.

Once I reached room eight I paused and took in a deep breath before opening the door and walking in. The smile Payton had on her face faded the moment she looked up and saw me standing there. That felt like a kick in the nuts.

Her boss, William, stood from the chair and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Now you’re here I can get back to the café.” He looked over at Payton and smiled. “Looks like you’re in good hands, sweetheart. Call me and let me know what the doctors say, will ya?” She nodded her head as he stepped around me and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I approached with caution, because by the look on her face, I knew she had seen the picture. “You didn’t have to come. I’m fine.”

“It’s not what you think, Payton,” I tried to assure her as I stepped closer to the bed.

“Oh really? Because what it looked like to me was you kissing some other girl. If it wasn’t that, then what was it?” She didn’t falter. Hell, she stared me straight in the eyes, strong and confident. With all the hell she had been through, most people would imagine her as frail and withdrawn, crying and hiding from everything. But not Payton; she was amazing.

I sat down on the edge of her hospital bed, even though I knew it was the last place she wanted me to be. “I don’t remember much after the first couple of hours. Todd and I got into it again, and they made him leave this time. He was running off about kissing you, among other things.”

“I never…” she started to defend herself, but there was no need. I already knew nothing happened between the two of them, but he was there for her when I was too big of a pussy to face my true feelings. I hated the idea he held her close when it should have been me.

“I know nothing happened with him. It doesn’t make the shit he throws at me any easier,” I confessed. “After he left, we started doing shots and chasers. I should have stopped drinking, but before I knew it I was wasted. After that, Payton, I truly don’t remember much. A few flashes here and there, but that’s it.”

“So nowhere in all those flashes of your night do you remember kissing that girl? Because the evidence is all over your phone.” Before I could say anything more the doctor came in the room.

“Good morning, Payton. It would appear you started today in an interesting way.” He smiled, and immediately I didn’t like him. A young doctor was attempting to flirt with her right in front of me. He had not even acknowledged me. “So let’s take a look at the damage.”

I stood up from the bed and remained at Payton’s side as the doctor,
‘Dr. Trevor Martin’
, so his tag read, lifted her hand gently. “How exactly did this happen?” he asked as he slid his chair closer.

“It was completely my fault. I guess I need to watch where I’m going.” She smiled at him and I was instantly jealous. Her smile was something I looked forward to daily, and to see it directed at another man pissed me off. “I bumped into another waitress and the items she held crashed to the floor. In turn I slipped on some coffee when I took a step, and my wrist connected with the display case on the way down.”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” His hand slid over her shoulder and my jaw tensed.

“No, I landed on my side but nothing else hurts other than my wrist,” she replied, still wearing that fucking smile of hers that on any other day made my knees weak.

“Okay. Well, we need to get an x-ray to determine the extent of the injury. That will determine the next step,” he said as he lay her arm back on her lap. His hand lingered too fucking long in my opinion. “I’ll call up to Imaging, and when they’re ready for you they’ll come get you.”

“Thank you,” she replied as he stood.

“No problem,” he said with a wink. Yeah, a fucking wink.

As he exited the room, Payton looked up at me and rolled her eyes. “Wow, you are ridiculous.”

“Nope. I just don’t like him,” I said as a matter of fact.

She chose to not respond, which was probably best. Instead, she got back to the matter at hand. “So you’re blaming your cheating on the alcohol you consumed.”

“Payton…” I started to say, taking a seat at her side once more.

“Did you sleep with her?” she asked.

My throat felt like it had grown tighter. “No,” I said in a pained whisper.

“Ever?” she asked.

I looked up and my eyes met hers. It was apparently the only answer she needed. She looked away and I slid even closer. “It was a long time ago, Payton. Hell, since then half the guys in the house have slept with her.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “But, baby, I would never cheat on you,” I said with certainty.

“Kissing someone else, in my opinion, is cheating, Dylan. It’s an intimate gesture that shouldn’t be thrown around. I’m sorry you don’t feel the same way.” Fuck, this was going from bad to worse.

“Just go, please.” She turned her hand away from me and started making a fist with her good hand. I noticed that gesture was repeated often when she was nervous or upset. “I’ll have Casey pick me up.”

“No,” I replied.

“I’m not asking,” she said.

When I didn’t move she looked back at me and our eyes met. “I don’t want you here. I need some space to think about things.”